Read Online Star Teacher by Jack Sheffield - Free Book Online Page A

new musical by the Royal Shakespeare Company had opened at the Barbican Centre earlier in the month. ‘Sadly, it’s had poor reviews.’ She pointed to the arts section in her newspaper. ‘“A lurid Victorian melodrama”, it says here.’
    â€˜Never mind,’ said Anne, ‘I’m sure you’ll enjoy it.’
    â€˜I’m hoping it will cheer him up,’ said Vera. ‘He’s been like a bear with a sore head since he read that foreign cars will be built here in the United Kingdom.’ I looked up, remembering the news that Peugeot had begun to construct their new 309 in the plant that was famous for the Hillman, Humber, Singer, Sunbeam and Talbot. ‘Rupert says it will be the death knell of the British car industry.’
    Meanwhile, Sally picked up her
Daily Mirror
and smiled. ‘At least there’s some good news here,’ she said.
    â€˜What’s that?’ asked Anne, looking up from her Yorkshire Purchasing Organisation catalogue and the price of powder paint.
    Sally pointed to the article. ‘It says here that five thousand pensioners have protested in Trafalgar Square against the proposal by Norman Fowler, Secretary of State for Social Services, for the abolition of the state earnings-related pension.’
    â€˜Good for them,’ said Anne.
    The full basic rate of pension was £35.80 per week for a single person and £57.30 for a couple, so this had been a topical discussion in recent weeks.
    â€˜And it looks like the pensioners have won!’ exclaimed Sally. ‘What do you think of that, Vera?’ It was a mischievous confrontation.
    â€˜Well, generally good news,’ said Vera cautiously, ‘but also something of a concern. I heard on the news this morning that the number of people over seventy-five will rise by over a third in the next ten years.’
    â€˜Who’s going to look after them all?’ wondered Anne.
    Sally shook her head. ‘The NHS is creaking as it is.’
    â€˜I presume people will have to use their savings for a retirement home,’ said Vera.
    â€˜Savings!’ exclaimed Sally. ‘On a teacher’s salary?’
    â€˜It will be difficult for many who just make ends meet,’ said Anne, trying to establish a middle ground. She looked up at Vera, who had returned to the sink and had begun to wash the hot-milk pan a little earlier than usual. It was clear that she wasn’t quite herself today.
    It was just as the bell rang for school lunch that Ruby had finished setting out all the dining tables. She was later than usual.
    â€˜What’s the matter, Ruby?’ I asked.
    She shook her head. ‘It’s my Duggie, Mr Sheffield. ’E’s allus gallavantin’ about wi’ that mature woman.’
    â€˜Well, so long as he’s happy,’ I said without conviction.
    â€˜Ah’ll be pushin’ up daisies by t’time ’e finds a proper girlfriend,’ continued Ruby.
    â€˜A
proper
girlfriend?’
    â€˜Yes, y’know – someone ’is own age.’
    â€˜I see,’ I said.
    During school lunch the children in Pat’s class were lining up with their plastic trays. Shirley Mapplebeck always had a kind word for all the children, whereas Doreen Critchley, her formidable colleague, rarely smiled.
    â€˜We ’ad strangled eggs f’breakfast, Mrs Mapplebeck,’ said six-year-old Madonna Fazackerly.
    â€˜That’s lovely,’ said Shirley with a smile.
    A few places further back in the queue, Billy Ricketts and Scott Higginbottom were exchanging secrets.
    â€˜Ah know a swear word,’ said Billy, looking furtively around him.
    â€˜What is it?’ asked Scott.
    â€˜Friggin’,’ said Billy.
    Scott looked puzzled. ‘Friggin’ … what’s friggin’?’
    â€˜Dunno,’ said Billy, ‘but my dad says it all the time.’
    The queue shuffled closer to Shirley Mapplebeck, who